Revenge of the Caged Bird
by FrankandJoe3
Summary: When you have nothing left in this world, what is there left for you to have? In Robin's mind, the only thing left for him to have is revenge. Rated T for violence
1. Chapter 1

**Inspired by a near forgotten scrap of ideas from Communication Arts. **

**Prologue:**

Richard stood in the grass in front of the grave, rain soaking his tuxedo all the way through. He had extreme déjà vu as it did, seeing that it had been just like this when his parents had died. Hot and bitter tears streamed quickly from his blue eyes and sobs were hard enough to rack his whole muscular but small frame. He wanted nothing more than to shrivel up and die, but his friends that surrounded him would never allow that. Kaldur set a warm hand on his shoulder and tightened his grip just enough for it to be comforting.

"I am sorry," he apologized, his voice soft and slow.

Richard made no attempt to wipe away his tears as they streaked down his face with the rain, soaking him further.

"First KF," he sobbed, his heart broken and the world seeming to free fall around him, "and now… and now…"

He sank to his knees, his face level with the soaking grass, his head beside the headstone with the all too familiar name printed on its front. The others stood beside him, unsure of what to do.

"Robin, do you… would you like us to…" Kaldur was at a loss for words.

Seeing Robin frown was common and seeing him happy was a regular sight, but never was a sobbing heartbroken boy a good sight.

"You can… leave if y-you… want," Richard sobbed, hugging his stomach hard to try to ease the hurt.

The others seemed hesitant, but one by one, they all turned away and started to walk off. Richard just sat alone in the grass, sobbing his heart out, the familiar pain rising up from the depths of his mind. He had nothing left. His whole world was gone now. Anything and everything that he loved was gone now, only a shell of a boy left to suffer in this world. Through bleary eyes, Richard weakly reached up and traced the letters on the headstone with his thumb, his breath ragged in his throat. As he did so, anger bubbled up from deep within him. He turned his head to the sky, fat rain drops pelting his already wet face.

"I swear," he began, his voice faltering and broken as it passed over his lips, "that even if it's the last thing I do, I will avenge the lives of all those I lost…"

Thunder cracked hard in the background, but Richard didn't care.

"I will keep on searching and fighting…" he let out a soft sob, "until I see your body hit the floor, your blood staining the ground beneath you! I will kill you the worst way I know how, and I won't stop trying until you wrench the idea from my cold, dead mind."

Then he dropped back to his knees, his eyes reading over the gravel again, his sobs harder now. He set a hand over the name; his tears hitting the fresh dirt, the man's face clear in his mind. On the headstone was a name recognized by any and all people who have connections to the outside world: **Bruce Wayne**. His body shaking, Richard pulled a Sharpie from his pocket which he had stored there hours before and drew a small bat on the corner of the grave, matching Batman's old symbol of many years.

"Goodbye… dad…" Richard whispered, letting his body fall onto the grass beside the grave.

And then slowly, he felt a longed for darkness take him under and the rain was free to strike his body as hard as it pleased.

**Oooh! Dead KF and Batman! How dare I? What is wrong with me? Review and maybe you'll see… in a couple chapters (:**

**-FJ3**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry that it's been so long! Writer's block and all that junk has been jacking with my head. Anyway, I hope this chapter is worth the wait!**

**Chapter 1 [Part 1]**

_~4 months ago~_

It was a simple Friday afternoon, only three days from the last week of school. At the moment it was 1:50, only 40 minutes until school let out for the weekend. The bleachers in the gym were packed on every row with un-uniformed children wearing jeans and t-shirts and shorts and high socks and such. Friday was the only day each week that the attendees of Gotham Academy didn't have to wear their uniforms, so as one would expect, every attendee loved Friday and it's lack of ties and jackets and skirts of the same formal navy blue or black.

The reason all of the grades were packed into the oversized gym was because today was a big assembly. A girl, Taylor Hartwig **[1]**, sat in the middle in her wheelchair. Taylor was a very pretty woman at 15, with curly chestnut hair that fell graciously down her back in luscious curls and a bright pair of auburn eyes, accented with the right amount of make-up. She too wore jeans like most of the other kids and she wore a maroon shirt that said 'Think First' in white cursive letters. Her skin was the perfect tan shades and she seemed pretty happy at the moment.

All of the chattering amongst the students was silenced as Coach Hames, the school's favorite gym teacher by far, strode to the front with the microphone.

"Gotham Academy, give it up for our speaker, the lovely Miss Taylor Hartwig," he waited until the applause stopped before continuing. "She has taken the time from her day to come speak to you all about what happened to her and what you can do to not have the same thing happen to you."

Thousands of eyes of hazel, brown, green, gray, black and blue fell on Taylor as Coach Hames held the microphone out to her. She reached for it, a frown on her face as she furrowed her eyebrows. She got the microphone in the space between her thumb and fingers before bending her wrist so that her fingers snapped closed and she held the microphone tight. She moved her other wrist to a control panel on her arm rest and moved her wheel chair forward, calming her face down before glancing about the crowd of people before her. She cleared her throat gently before beginning.

"Alright… as you already know, my name is Taylor Hartwig and I'm a quadriplegic. When I was 14, about the age of most of you 8th graders," she glanced their way, "I got into an accident that could've been prevented if I had been more careful…"

She coughed again before elaborating.

"It was around Christmas time and my bestie and I went down to the local park that had a _monster_ hill that everyone _loved_ to ride down on sleds. I hopped on one sled and she hopped on the other. We didn't put on helmets even though there were a billion trees lining the hill. We just assumed, you know, nothing bad will happen to us. We went down once and it was pretty fun, nothing bad happened to us at all. So we decided to try again. Only this time, I wanted to make it more fun so I challenged her to a race.

"We got on our sleds and we took off down the hill, twice as fast now. I was ahead and I turned back to see where she was. In doing so, my sled turned around and I crashed into a tree and I hit just one little bone in my neck. Just one! I didn't even break it. I just bruised it. I didn't think too much on it because I blacked out. My friend must have called the hospital and my family because when I woke up weeks later, they told me that I would probably never be able to move anything from the waist down."

Taylor coughed again, harder this time. Her nurse came over with a water bottle.

"Hold on a second," she apologized, handing the microphone to her nurse before grabbing the water bottle with her wrists and taking a drink.

Richard frowned gently, biting hard on his bottom lip. He felt so horrible knowing that he could flip back and forth across the gym floor about one hundred times before he got tired with it or failed and she couldn't even do one without failing. He wrapped his arms gently around his stomach, his left hand over his right elbow, feeling the familiar bruise even through the spacey, overlapping folds of the t-shirt he was wearing. All of the times he had gotten his ass kicked flew through his mind and every time he had struck the ground hard enough to cry out or to spit blood now seemed meaningless. She had just bruised her vertebrate and now she was in a wheelchair? Just the thought sent shivers down Richard's back and he tried to run away the goosebumps on his arms.

"You okay?" Bailey whispered, concern in her voice.

Richard glanced her way and smiled weakly. She had short brown hair with emo like bangs that curved off to the side and oval-like glasses that were a light purple. Her eyes were a darker green and a couple of freckles were splashed across her face. At full height, she was six foot, at least three heads taller than Richard. When sitting down though, Richard's head came up to her eyebrows. Her height was mostly in her legs.

"Yeah," he lied.

She hugged him comfortingly with one warm, pulling him close for a moment.

"Don't worry Dick," she said softly, "this can't happen to us… we're stronger than this and not stupid enough to crash into trees… Well, I'm not anyway, but you might be."

Richard grinned gently and pushed her arm off.

"Jerk," he shot at her lovingly.

"And you love me for it," she teased back, sticking out her tongue at him.

"Sadly," he surrendered, cocking his head quickly as he shrugged.

"Grayson, Albright!" Mrs. Embree scolded them.

"Sorry," they both whispered in unison, shutting up.

They exchanged apologetical smiles and looked back at Taylor who was just handing back the water bottle. Bailey and Richard were like brother and sister at school. He watched out for her and she watched out for him. She was like his female Wally, someone he never wanted to lose and someone that he knew always had his back. Bailey was the first girl Richard knew that could pull off kissing him on the nose or the cheek without others thinking that they were dating. She didn't ever kiss him though, mostly because she knew how he wasn't touchy-feely like most guys. She mostly just hugged him, punched him and kicked him behind the knees so he'd collapse only to get ninja tackled and yelled at by surrounding teachers. **[2]**

Taylor took back the microphone with serious trouble and nodded in thanks at the nurse.

"Anyway, they put me in rehab to try to help me regain control of my muscles," she picked up. "It was so frustrating, and it still is! I can't go to the bathroom on my own, I can't dress myself, I can't drive anywhere, I can't even shower alone. How many of you honestly would be fine showering with your parents?"

The room was silent and only one hand shot up over in the 6th grade section, but the boy had Tourette's Syndrome so no one laughed at him for it. Taylor didn't notice him, or if she did, she made no comment of it.

"See? I have to do that because I can't do anything on my own. And I've lost control of my hands too. I can hold things by bending my wrist because it automatically causes my wrist to close… The only thing I can move on my hand is my middle finger. It kind of twitches."

She held up her left hand and indeed, her middle finger could move a little bit. She lowered her hand again.

"I bet she did that just so she could flip us all off," Bailey whispered to Richard, struggling to swallow a smile.

Richard felt a smile bubble to his lips, but he fought it off and playfully elbowed her in the ribs. She didn't wince because it didn't hurt, but she shut up. Tears caused his eyes sparkle gently in the light and Bailey had noticed. She hugged his arm softly. He glanced at her again and offered her a smile. Despite that, she wouldn't let go. He sighed, but didn't force her off. Her arm was right on his bruise and if she moved, it would hurt something awful and he knew it.

"In rehab they had me practice by picking up little Lincoln Logs and stacking them. On the first day, I couldn't even pick them up. I just kept trying though. On the second day, I was so happy. I had stacked five blocks! The next day, I got ten! Then after that! I had fifteen! I dropped back down to twelve the day after that, but I kept going up. A week later, I had stacked twenty five blocks! I was so happy! Then I realized I was happy because I had stacked blocks, something any Kindergartener could do. There I was, at 14, cheering at something that a 6 year old could do."

Taylor sounded so frustrated that everyone was dead silent. Some were ready to cry, others were, and some who had stone hearts were actually smiling. Either that or they were asleep, but either way, they were still smiling at a heartbreaking story. That takes some serious balls.

"Now… um… any questions?" she asked.

At least a hundred hands shot up. Her eyes scanned the crowd and she picked one random boy.

"You, up there in the red?"

The boy stood up and put a hand on either side of his mouth and yelled to be heard.

"Can you move any part of your feet?"

Taylor pursed her lips.

"Well… I can sometimes wiggle my toes," she beamed softly. "The doctors were so proud of me!"

That boy sat down and Taylor scanned the crowd again, going to the upside.

"Girl in the sparkly dress?"

A ninth grader wearing what had to be the sparkliest dress Richard had ever seen stood up. She said something, but no one heard.

"What?" Taylor raised an eyebrow, cupping her ear to show that she couldn't hear.

"Do you still hang out with your friend?"

Taylor nodded. "Yeah, she's the best. She helps me dress up and she takes the time to drive me to parties and stuff. We still hang out and such. Most people wouldn't though, you know?"

The girl sat down.

"I mean honestly, how many of you would do that? You'd have to drive to their house, help them out of their wheelchair and onto the bed because they can't. Then you'd have to get their clothes and help them put it on because they can't. Then you have to help them into the chair again and fix their hair and their make-up and such if they wear that kind of stuff, then you have to push the wheelchair down the steps because most houses don't have the slopes, which really kind of hurts, then you have to help them into the car and buckle their seatbelt. When you get their, you have to unbuckle their seatbelt and help them back onto the chair and adjust everything for them… How many of you have at least one friend who you'd do all that for?"

With his mind on his favorite red head and the brunette beside him, Richard's hand shot up. Bailey's hand was up too as she glanced from Richard to the short brunette beside her who also had her hand up. Taylor smiled up at the forty percent with their hands in the air.

"Alright… any other questions?"

Richard kept his hand up. Bailey raised an eyebrow, but she didn't comment. To his surprise, Taylor called on him. Being in the second row, he didn't need to yell.

"Do you think you'll ever walk again?" he asked calmly.

Taylor hesitated and everyone waited eagerly for an answer. She met his eyes and was surprised with the power they held so she averted her eyes.

"I uh… I… no… I really don't think I'll ever walk again," she admitted, "but that won't stop me from trying!"

She smiled sheepishly. Richard smiled back and she noticed.

"So um… any other questions?"

No others hands went up. Taylor exchanged glances with her nurse and Coach Hames. They both took their cue and walked to where they were supposed to be. Coach Hames grabbed the microphone from her hands.

"Let's give it up for Taylor Hartwig!" he encouraged them all.

Applause deafened the gym as some kids rose to their feet and others cheered loudly. Taylor blushed happy.

"Thank you all," she mouthed.

It took several minutes for the applause to die down, but when it did, Coach Hames didn't lower the microphone. In his eyes was a determined look, almost evil, as if he had something cynical planned for the whole of Gotham Academy.

**[1] Taylor attends my school and everything she said/says really did happen to her, except for the fan of Richard Grayson. I don't know if she really likes him or not.**

**[2] Bailey is based on my bestie. She'll be really important later in the story, so don't forget her. BTW, **_**no**_**, Richard and her won't have a 'thing'. She won't be a fan pairing with anyone as long as I have control over it. She'll just be like his big sister because I know for a fact that she's older than him, by 11 days (: No seriously, isn't March 20****th**** his birthday? Hers is the 9****th****.**

**I HATE THE WORD FORTY! It should be spelled four-ty, not forty! I don't count one, two, three, and for! I count one, two, three, and FOUR! GAH!**

**And I know it's really early in the story, but with your review, tell me what villain[s] you want to see in this story so I can start getting it together. If you name them, tell me a classic trait they have. I know that the Joker laughs a lot, but he's the only villain I know the traits too because I've only seen Robin in Teen Titans and this show and most of the villains in these two shows weren't reoccurring. So, review? I worked hard! This is 6 pages I tell you! **

**-FrankandJoe3**


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh yeah, double update. You better review! Seriously, I'll kill you if you don't!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice. If I did, do you honestly think I'd be writing this disclaimer or even be typing this story? Exactly.**

**Chapter 1 [Part 2]**

Coach Hames smiled widely.

"And for the final act of tonight, let's bring down Gotham Academy's own little flying squirrel," Coach Hames announced into the microphone.

Richard blushed heavily. Bailey slowly released his arm, seeing that he winced when she had pulled away quickly and laughed gently at his embarrassment, patting his back.

"Go and get 'em," she whispered into his ear.

Richard flashed a weak thumbs-up.

"He's no doubt the most flexible boy in this whole school and when it comes to climbing, I know half of you have seen this little kid scamper halfway up the gym wall to catch a flying kick ball. He definitely proves that size doesn't matter! So, everyone, let's have a warm welcome to… Richard Grayson!"

The gym applauded again. It wasn't near as loud as Taylor's, but it was definitely loud. Richard bowed his head, his face bright red. It wasn't until he heard feminine screams cheering him on that he felt awkward. He laughed it off though and took the microphone from his favorite Coach's hands, shooting Taylor a warm smile. He held up a hand, silencing the gym.

"Hey Gotham Academy," he began nervously, his face still bright red. "I won't start tonight until we get Jacob Casey, Brenton Weathers and Blake Jackson down here!"

More applause sounded as a boy with too long of shaggy hair, a midget and an awkward kid strode down the bleachers.

"And I'm also gonna need Lexie Althaus!"

The girl with the sparkly dress came down the bleachers and the school applauded her almost just as loud as they had applauded Richard. She came down towards him.

"What am I doing?" she mouthed.

"Singing," Richard mouthed back, smirking softly.

Her eyes narrowed.

"What if I don't want to?" she challenged.

"Then face the booing crowd after you tell them that," he shot back, his smirk widening.

She sighed.

"Screw off," she said instead, taking the microphone from his hand.

"Is that an invitation?" he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Lexie couldn't help but grin.

"Some days Dick…" she shook her head softly.

Coach Hames went to the back to mess with the music while Jacob, Brenton and Blake got in a certain order, grinning at Richard when they caught his eyes. Richard walked over to Taylor, a polite smile on his lips.

"Hey," he greeted her, holding out his hand.

She reached her hand up, but she couldn't grasp his hand to shake it. Richard didn't care. He grasped her hand tight enough for the both of them before releasing her hand gently.

"So, your name is Richard Grayson, huh?" she asked, looking him up and down.

He nodded. "Yeah… that's what it says on my birth certificate at least."

She smiled gently in recognition. "Are you _the_ Richard Grayson?"

Richard tensed up, closing his blue eyes tight for a fraction of a second.

"What do you mean?" he asked, playing dumb.

_Please tell me my secret identity hasn't been blown! Oh my God, please… _

"Weren't you on the Flying Graysons?" she asked, a grin on her lips at the thought.

Richard jumped.

"Wha- no! Er, sorry, no," he kicked himself for saying no so fast. "I get that a lot, but no. I'm not that Richard Grayson."

It sounded like he was trying to convince himself though and Taylor noticed. She laughed softly.

"You are! Oh my God, I went to all of your performances growing up! I was your biggest fan!"

Richard closed his eyes tightly and clenched his fists, taking a deep breath.

"No, I wasn't on the Flying Graysons. I didn't have performances! I'm just Richard Grayson!"

Taylor flinched at the venom in his voice.

"I… I'm sorry?" she asked, confused. "But you are… I know for a fact… I recognize you… Why wouldn't you want me to recognize you?"

Richard began to shake with silent anger. He clenched his teeth.

"There's no one to recognize," he growled lightly.

Taylor's eyebrow was raised high.

"I don't get it… Oh wait, didn't your… Your parents died in that last act, back in 2007… I'm so sorry… Is that why you don't want me to recognize you?"

Richard turned away, his blue eyes burning with angry tears. He took a deep breath and walked away from her.

"Are you okay?" Bailey mouthed, her eyebrows furrowed.

Richard closed his eyes tightly and blinked off a few tears.

"Just peachy," he mouthed back.

Bailey didn't like that answer, but she couldn't say anything more because the music snapped on. Richard hurried to his spot and Taylor backed up her wheelchair, her eyes hard on Richard.

_Why wouldn't he want me to remember him? He seemed as if he didn't want the others to know… And Coach Hames didn't mention the circus… Maybe no one else knows? How troubling…_

Lexie set the microphone back in its stand and walked up to it, smiling weakly at Richard's song choice as she recognized it. She tapped her high heel clad feet to the familiar feet. The four boys in the back smiled amongst themselves. Jacob, Brenton and Blake would be dancing, just because they could. Richard was there to please the people. Lexie grabbed the microphone. As she did so, Brenton hurried up beside her to sing back up, just because that midget had a good set of vocals on him.

"I came to dance," Lexie began, in which Brenton followed by echoing, "Dance, dance, dance."

Jacob and Blake took to dancing in what looked like professional dance moves, each in perfect sync with the other. Richard drummed his fingers against his lips, trying to think of something that would impress the crowd. He backed up to the mats on the far left and took off running, a brief idea forming in his mind.

When he was a third of the way across the gym floor, he leapt up, his arms high above his head. He ended up doing a cartwheel, from which he did two round offs. Once his feet touched the ground, he immediately kicked himself back into the air in which he managed three flips in a row, his body tumbling as fast as he could force it. When he hit the ground again, he threw himself down into a cartwheel, from which he landed in the splits, wincing at his sore arm that was still bruised heavily. The crowd applauded heavily as Lexie and Brenton continued on, their voices mingling and mixing into the perfect side dish for the beautiful meal created by the ebony haired boy. **[1]**

The pain of the bruise intensified, as did Richard's hatred of battle simulations. He would always get a bruise in the most inconvenient of places, although he preferred having them on his arms to his legs, any of the three. **[2] **He forced himself back to his feet and plastered a smile back on his lips. Taylor, who was still watching from the side, was now convinced that he was from the Flying Graysons. She had never seen anyone, well anyone not in professional gymnastics, able to flip _three_ times in the air on just a flat surface and just barely stumble. Some of her friends could flip once, but she didn't know anyone who could flip three times like that.

Richard pursed his lips again. He was only doing this just to keep on Coach Hames's good side. If he wasn't, then he was sure Bruce would hear of half the stuff he did at school and he'd wind up mounted on the Wayne Manor mantle with a little name underneath him. He was still convinced that Bruce murdered and stuffed all of his past sidekicks and hid them in his own room, which was why he wasn't allowed in the room at all. His brain sparked again and he got another idea. He peeked at the clock. It was already 2:10. Not much longer now.

Once again, he barreled forward and held his breath as he did so. He immediately threw his head over his feet, landing on his hands. He pushed sharply upward, exhaling quickly as he did so, giving himself enough air to manage one flip and a barrel roll in the air. When he hit the ground, he threw himself back over his feet and back into the air, flipping twice in a row, his hair flying with him as he did so, hitting the ground on his feet. He stumbled, but he stayed up on the ground without face planting. He grinned in self victory.

Once again, the crowd roared happily. Richard couldn't help but glance at Taylor. He felt so bad when he saw that she was clapping with the bridges of her wrists, kind of like a seal, cheering for him. Inside, he smashed his brains in with a mallet for yelling at her earlier. She didn't know he was trying to keep it a secret.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed to her, a hand on his neck sheepishly.

"Me too," she mouthed back, smiling widely anyway.

He felt a little bit better, but he still felt like an ass on the inside. He took a deep breath.

_I need to do something special to show off… Not yet though, let's do one last thing, then I'll bring the house down_ he decided with a smile.

He backed up again and ran, breaking off into a cartwheel as usual. Once again, he brought his other hand down and broke into a round off. He did another one halfway until he was on his hands, only to bend his elbows so they were almost resting on the ground, his body erect. He shook dangerously, but he wasn't going to quit yet. As quick as he could, he thrust his body up, laughing as he heard his shoulder pop and broke into a back flip, landing on his knees. From that, he grabbed his left leg and pulled it up so that it stretched over his shoulder.

He giggled playfully when he heard people wince in the crowd. He kept pulling at his leg, despite the pain, until it touched the ground on the other side of him so he was almost doing an upside down splits. From that, he used his hands to push his body erect again. His arms shook violently, but he forced his legs straight again so he could bend them backwards so he was in a bridge position. From that, he forced himself to his feet. He held his hands up victoriously.

He heard some kids laugh as they clapped for him. Bailey just shook her head, sticking out her tongue.

"That's right, be jealous," he mouthed, grinning.

Now it was time for the show stopper. He dashed over to the 'stage' that rested along the wall of the gym that connected the lunch room to the gym. It was a good stretch, roughly 20 feet wide and that was all he needed. Blake and Jacob scrambled to move Lexie and Brenton, being sure not to disturb their singing which had the crowd bobbing their heads happily. Once everyone was moved, Richard felt all eyes on him. He swallowed hard, backing up. He couldn't mess this up. He backed up as far as he could until his heels licked the back edge of the stage. He then charged forward as fast as he could, tapping into his Boy Wonder powers.

Just as he hit the edge of the stage, he threw his body into the air, crossing his arms over his chest. He turned his body sideways and flipped it. He was just about to land when his foot slipped over the air and his body fell horizontal. His eyes widened and he tried to catch himself, but his hands weren't fast enough. Instead of falling on the comfort of his hands, Richard fell on his face and didn't move. Lexie and Brenton stopped singing. The gym fell silent. No one moved and the sound of Taio Cruz filled the silence. Finally, Bailey stood up and ran through the people, dashing towards Richard.

Coach Hames hurried and shut off the music. Talk filled the gym; each word from every worried person echoed off the walls and drowned out everyone else. Bailey knelt at Richard's side and set a hand worriedly on his shoulder.

"Dick, are you okay?" she yelled to him over the talk.

Richard's body shook softly in response. She couldn't hear him though. In anger she stood up and tapped into her inner Hell powers and screamed her best horror movie scream. That cut everyone's words from the air.

"SHUT UP!" she screamed furiously.

No one made a sound after that. Bailey knelt at his side again, grabbing his arm weakly.

"Dick, can you sit up?" she asked, worry coating her voice.

Richard set his hands on the ground and pushed up weakly, shaking as he did so. Bailey almost passed out when she saw all the blood on the floor. She helped him up further and saw luckily that it was just his nose that was bleeding heavily. He used his left hand to hold his nose but he couldn't stifle all of the blood. He groaned softly.

"Are you okay?" Bailey's voice asked, worriedly.

Richard nodded and started moving his nose to make sure it wasn't broken. It wasn't, but it still hurt.

"Yeah, that was just stupid on by part," he said with a sick voice, seeing that he wasn't using his nose.

He could feel the familiar stickiness of the blood on his fingers and he winced. He let Bailey drag him from the gym.

"Don't worry Dicky, I'm gonna help you clean your nose. I don't want you going home with a nose like that. Bruce would _so_ freak out!"

Once they were out of sight, Bailey hugged his arm tight before kicking the back of his knee, causing him to stumble.

"You're such a dumbass," she whispered in his ear before laughing.

Richard dropped his hand from his nose and swiped at her face. He managed to get some blood on her cheek, causing her to shriek and wipe at it furiously before she raised her hand, turning it backwards.

"I will pimp you, Grayson!" she threatened, running after him.

Richard let out a girlish giggle and ran down the hall, ignoring the laughing he heard that came from Taylor. He was actually kind of glad she was amused. It was easier than apologizing again.

XxXxX

Richard walked down the sidewalk, his face bloodless again. He locked eyes with the cemetery gate. He considered going in, but he knew that if he did, Bruce would thrash him for showing up home late again. With a sigh, he continued down the road. His mind flashed back to what Taylor had said as he did.

"_You are! Oh my God, I went to all of your performances growing up! I was your biggest fan!" _he heard her say in his mind.

His stomach churned.

_If she remembered me, anyone can. My identity is in danger. I should tell Bruce… but if I do, he'll yell at me for showcasing my skills in front of the school… dangit! _

He angrily scuffed his foot across the sidewalk, completely oblivious to the eyes watching him from inside the cemetery watching him with ill intentions. The owner of the eyes chuckled to himself before scurrying off into the shadows.

**[1] All credit from this paragraph to the YouTube video, The Best Gymnastics of the World, the first 7 seconds of it, by jmc2324. That's just if you want to see it. The only thing I changed was the landing. **

**[2] I'm referring to his third leg. If you don't know what a boy's third leg is, then I won't explain it to you. Just think hard on it.**

**And by the way, you should look up Lexie on YouTube! She goes by lexielulu911 and she sings really good. Look at her 'Happily Ever After' cover with the American Flag in the background. That or her 'Speak Now' cover. Both are really good! Yes Lexie, I'm advertising you. You're welcome. But seriously, she is amazing and she's really pretty!**

**And once again, you should name me some villains and something they do a lot [you know, play with their fingers, twiddle their thumbs, smoke, etc] Review! This is 7 pages! **

**-FrankandJoe3**


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